


Black Dream

by Love_andbalance



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben is engaged to someone else, Ben is twenty-seven, Breach of Trust - Freeform, Breach of responsibilty, Canon Age Difference, Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Infidelity, It feels dirty, Loss of Virginity, No Pregnancy, Not Fluff, Oral Sex, Pastor!Ben, People Behaving Badly, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Rey Is Seventeen, Rough Sex, Seduction, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, dubious consent at times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_andbalance/pseuds/Love_andbalance
Summary: For the Reylo Jukebox Exchange. Inspired by the song Black Dream by Samhain. I intentionally chose a song that I was not familar with so I wouldn't have preconceptions on what the song was actually about. Hopefully my take on it that's based just on what I thought about when reading the lyrics still works for those of you who know more about the song!Ben is a pastor with his whole life planned out in front of him. The only problem is one little temptation that threatens to send it all tumbling down.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 86
Kudos: 219
Collections: Reylo Jukebox Exchange





	1. Already Damned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nunyabidness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nunyabidness/gifts).



> I have no actual experience with actual recreational drug use, so I tried to patch that aspect of this together through a quick google search. Please forgive my inaccuracies.
> 
> Black Dream Lyrics-  
> Who are you that taunts my nights  
> With darkness and reproach  
> Are you she  
> Embracing devils never to awake
> 
> Pretty pretty black dream  
> Give me infinity's kiss  
> Pretty pretty  
> Pretty black one  
> Your lips I hunger for  
> 'Cause I want it  
> And I need it  
> Your tongue I hunger for  
> Want it  
> And I need it  
> Black dream can kiss me loose
> 
> Your existence is only that which  
> Causes inner pain  
> Cradle lifeless bodies  
> In the bosom of your hell
> 
> Pretty pretty black dream  
> Give me infinity's kiss  
> Pretty pretty  
> Pretty black one  
> Your lips I hunger for  
> 'Cause I want it  
> And I need it  
> Your tongue I hunger for  
> Want it  
> And I need it  
> Black dream can kiss me loose

The sound of the door opening was barely enough to register in his mind as he skimmed his finger over a worn copy of the Bible. The spine was split, and the paper was stiff and dog eared where he had bent back nearly every page to mark his place at one point or another over the years.

Composing this week’s sermon shouldn’t take long, the topic was a simple and familiar one- a gentle reminder to his small congregation on the dangers of temptation and the necessity of turning to God when the devil tried to lead you astray.

He looked up in surprise at the sound of his office door closing softly, followed by the distinct metallic click of the lock sliding into placed.

“Hey,” a soft voice called, just loud enough to reach his ears across the narrow expanse of an office.

The daughter of the church’s former pastor waited quietly, hand on the doorknob, watching him with patient eyes.

She was wearing a white summer sun dress that glowed next to the sun kissed tan of her skin and brushed the skin of her calves, the top not too revealing, the skirt not too short. Her face was accented with a touch of make-up, expertly applied, but the shades were natural, nothing too obvious or brazen. She had brown hair curling softly to her shoulders, each strand laid perfectly in place.

She was a carefully cultivated picture of innocence as she stood in the warm summer sunlight that streamed through the partially open blinds.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Rey, is there something I can help you with?”

She leaned toward him with a laugh, allowing the sheen of innocent vulnerability to fall away. The gleam in her eyes was suddenly just a bit too predatory, the edges of her smile just a bit too sharp.

“There’s a lot you can help me with Ben.”

He leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his composure as she advanced steadily toward him, feet paddling softly across the carpet that had been in this office since it had been her father that sat behind this same desk.

“We are not doing this Rey. I told you the last time was a mistake. It should never have happened.”

She looked at him in mock surprise, her lips parting as she sucked in her breath on a gasp. “It was? You seemed to enjoy it.” She feigned hurt as she leaned a hip against his desk, close enough now that the scent of her delicate floral perfume reached his nose.

He ignored the way it made his heart race and his palms sweat.

“It was,” he insisted. “For so many reasons.”

“What reasons?” she asked, looking at him with idle curiosity as she reached for the small buttons on her bodice and undid the topmost one with her slender fingers.

“What reasons?” he said, barking out a bitter laugh and reaching to still her fingers before she could unbutton a second button.

"You said had so many, but I can't think of single one," she said with a shrug.

“I’m engaged,” he began firmly, “I’m the pastor in charge of a congregation of people who depend on me to guide them and I can’t do that if I am lost in sin myself.”

She pouted, her bottom lip trembling softly, and he continued sternly, hoping to drive his point home. “You’re also the daughter of a man who has been important to me all of my life, my mentor, who trusts me to help with the spiritual guidance of his only daughter. A trust I betrayed horribly. You’re still a fucking child!”

The last of it rushed out of him in a flood of guilt. How many desperate prayers for salvation had he prayed in the two weeks since he had seen her last, he wondered? Her father would never forgive him if he ever found out, and he was sure he had already pushed the limits of God’s mercy as well.

She sniffed disdainfully. “I’m not a child. I’m seventeen and old enough to know what I want…I want you.”

He jerked his face away when she cupped his cheek in her hand, but it only made her giggle mischievously.

“I am twenty-seven, Rey. It’s not right, what I did to you.”

“I liked what you did to me. I want you to do it again,” she insisted, reaching again for the second button.

He would have stopped her, but her next words froze him in shame.

“How’s Bazine anyway?” she asked. “Still saving herself for your wedding night?’

“Yes,” he croaked. His fiancee knew that his youth had been turbulent, she wasn’t expecting him to come to their marriage bed pure, but she would be devastated that he had fucked someone else less than six months before the ceremony.

He glanced at the desk, now tainted with memories of Rey and how her body had clenched around him, the sounds she had made when he had buried himself forcefully inside her without a care for her fragility or her own virginity.

He had scrubbed her blood off his body that night in the shower, but he could never wash away the shame of what he had done to her.

Not that Rey seemed to share any of his concern or regret. She had laid open all the buttons now, pulling aside the halves of white fabric to reveal bare breasts beneath and leaning forward wantonly.

He breathed around clenched teeth as his fingers itched to touch her.

“I can’t do this again,” he insisted. “I should never have taken you the first time.”

“Oh, is that what all the fuss is about then?” she asked with a smile. “Well, that’s not a problem. There’s so much…else we can do.” She licked her lips and stared hungrily where the aching stiffness of his cock was straining against his slacks, a fact that he had been trying so hard to hide.

Was she really suggesting what he thought she was?

The brief hesitation was all the encouragement she needed, and she slithered down to kneel between his knees as his desires warred with his good intentions. She ran her hands up his thighs, leaning forward to brush her bare breasts against his lap and he tightened his hands on the chair’s armrests, knuckles white with the strain.

He watched in silence as he eager little fingers worked to unfasten is belt and unbutton his slacks, gritting his teeth when she shot him an impish smile and dipped one finger into he waist band of his black boxer briefs.

“You still look tense,” she mused, “and I want you to enjoy this.”

He glared at her suspiciously as she reached into the bodice of her dress and pulled a small bag of white powder from a hidden pocket she had sewn into the lining.

“I am absolutely not about to do cocaine in my office with you,” he admonished, but he felt foolish at announcing yet another thing he wasn’t going to do while she stroked his cock through his pants, clearly well on her way to getting him to do the first thing he swore wouldn’t happen.

“It’s not cocaine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s Valium. Open up.”

He opened his mouth reluctantly when she tapped his cheek and she poured the powder under his tongue.

“Just hold it there till it dissolves,” she instructed. “You’ll feel better in a minute or two. For someone your size, it probably isn’t enough to do much, but it should take the edge off.”

“Jesus,” he muttered as the powder dissolved under his tongue and left him with a soft feeling of gentle relaxation. It suddenly mattered a lot less that he was definitely going to hell after this or that the girl kneeling in front of him was too young, or that his whole life would fall apart if anyone walked past his window and saw them like this.

All that mattered was her, and how much he ached to be inside her.

“Bet you never thought you’d doing so much fun stuff in this office, did you?” she asked pertly as she carefully freed the full length of him from his underwear and began to stoke him with her clever fingers.

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “It was one hell of a surprise.”

She laughed wickedly and her face was full of mirth as he reached for her, twisting a nipple between his fingers and watching her eyes darken as desire replaced her humor.

He stopped talking, and stopped thinking, when she ran her tongue over the length him, tracing a path of wet heat from the base to the head, and wrapped her mouth around him. He made a strangled noise, fisting his hands in her hair, and she hummed appreciatively, apparently enjoying the taste of him and the eagerness of his response.

She let him push her down, taking him deeper into her throat that he would have thought possible as he arched into her and fucked her mouth. She brought him to the edge of his orgasm before pulling her mouth off of him with a soft little pop.

He steadied her as she straddled his lap and lifted her skirt out of the way. She was poised above him with her hand on his shoulder for balance and the thick head of his cock pressing urgently at her entrance, when she paused and looked earnestly into his eyes.

“You know someone is going to catch us eventually, right? Someone is going to walk by that window, and peak in when the blinds aren’t closed, and they’re going to see us.” She said it with absolute certainty as she sank slowly down onto him, impaling herself on him with a shudder until she was wrapped around him to the base and both of them were breathing heavily.

She began to move, sliding him out of her slowly just to drop back down abruptly, forcing him into her with hard thrusts as his fingers dug viciously into her hips.

“What are you going to do then?” she whispered into his ear. “When your sins are discovered? Do you think Bazine will your wife by then? Are you going to fuck both of us on the same day? I could lick her juices off your cock if you do, but she might be upset when she finds out. Maybe I should tell her now and save her the trouble of marrying you.”

He tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her to an abrupt stillness and wrapping his hand around her throat. Her pulse fluttered under his fingers, but the heat in her eyes didn’t look like fear.

“You’re not going to tell anyone anything,” he whispered dangerously, lifting her suddenly and turning to lay her on the desktop, heedless of the mess he made and the items that fell loudly to the floor as he turned her over roughly until she was laying on her stomach. He pushed her skirt up, bunching it around her hips and running a hand over the perfect white flesh of her ass.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a challenging smirk and he growled his frustration, rumble low in his chest that made her laugh until he lined himself up with her entrance and slammed himself inside her with an aggressive thrust that made her cry out in pain.

He thought that would be enough to silence her, to keep her from coming back and tempting him with her lithe little body and too knowing smile, but it wasn’t. After a few thrusts she adjusted to his brutal pace and pressed back against him, panting out small eager moans of encouragement that only enraged him further.

He pounded into her ruthlessly until she cried out her orgasm and then fucked into her even more roughly until he achieved his own, spilling himself into her recklessly and with no thought of consequence.

She laughed delightedly as he leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her. As he waited for his breathing to return to normal he rubbed his face against the softness of her air and breathed in the sweet smell of her perfume.

He winced as he finally pulled out her, but he couldn’t resist running his fingers through her folds to gather up his come and then slip them back inside her, pressing in the mess he had made and feeling a violent satisfaction that she was going to walk out of this office with his spend dripping down her thighs.

She rolled herself over, ignoring her naked chest as she pulled him for a long passionate kiss.

“You’re already mine,” she told him after she let him go and began to button her bodice. “There’s no sense in fighting it anymore.”

She didn't look like she expected an answer and he said nothing as she shook out her skirt and unlocked the office door to slip out as quietly as she had arrived.

His old Bible lay open on the floor, one casualty of the many that had spilled onto the floor as he rutted into her.

He bent to pick it up and flipped it to the inscription that her father had written on the cover the day he retired and gifted the Bible to Ben. He had been so proud to have his young protégé take over his congregation.

_Ben,_

_You have overcome so much and come so far on your journey with the Lord. Stay true to yourself, and let the world lead you not into temptation. I am so proud of you!_

_Pastor Johnson_

He sat down hard on the corner of his desk, the Bible clutched limply in his hands. He knew he could deny it, tell himself that he would avoid her and resist her as he had told himself after the first time, but it would be a lie. The devil had come for him wearing a white sun dress and he had surrendered completely.

He knew that what she said was true- he was already hers- and damn the consequences. It was going to tear his life apart, take everything he had worked for all his life, and he didn't care. He didn't care if spent an eternity in hell for what he had done to her. 

He just wanted to do it again.


	2. On Your Knees

She was still sore from the last time, still carrying around the ache between her thighs that told her the things that had happened between them weren’t a dream or a figment of a young girl’s overactive imagination. He had been inside her, rough and hard and demanding, his face intent and his eyes blazing with need and possession.

It did things to her, twisted up her heart and her insides, when he looked at her like that. It revealed him for what he was, showed the monster inside him, and her own beasts leapt with joy at the sight of it.

Beneath the discipline and control, beneath the piety that he wore like a mask, he was full to the brim with hidden dark things- the same kind of the things that recognized because she carried them around in her own heart. Like his, hers were carefully buried.

No one saw anything suspicious beneath the sweet white lace and the soft delicate curls that made up the image she had created of a dutiful pastor’s daughter. No one but Ben.

Neither of them was what they appeared to be, and no one would suspect the things that happened between them. The mindless hoard that made up the congregation probably wouldn’t believe it at all unless they had seen it with their own eyes. Who would want to believe the new young pastor and the sweetly innocent daughter of the man who had mentored him were both rotten to the core and fucking with crazed abandon in the church office?

It wasn’t something that good people contemplated- not something they wanted to contemplate. If her activities with Ben were ever discovered, it would destroy their lives, because those good people would be forced to acknowledge that the devil could walk among them, that no one was safe from his temptations. They would want to drive the evil out, and they would target those who had once represented virtue and had given in to sin. She knew the risk she was taking- damnation, ostracization, shame.

It wasn’t enough to keep her away from him. 

She’d gone home last week with his scent in her hair and his come on her thighs and she was absolutely determined to leave the same way again this week. His demons played so well with her own, and there was such ecstasy in that- in both the physical joining and the emotional rawness. He saw her, what she truly was beneath the surface, and he hadn’t been able to turn away despite his best efforts.

He was probably going to be difficult again tonight, but that was nothing she couldn’t handle. She’d known that he would be the first time she’d sought him out, but the way he watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking had already told her everything she needed to know.

His amber eyes gleamed when he looked her, darkening with a heady mixture of guilt and lust that she thought he probably hadn’t even acknowledged to himself before that first time she knocked on his door. He looked at her like she was prey, like he wanted to sink his teeth into her and never let go.

She’d been too innocent to recognize it at first, when the looks had first started, but it hadn’t taken her long to discover that she wanted him to do it, wanted to feel the bite and the burn. It spoke to something awakening inside her, something that was dark and primal.

It was that look that had drawn her to him, more than the soft dark curls, or the long proud nose, or the large body that was firm and hard with muscle beneath the carefully tailored cut of his clothes.

She had watched him, too, for as long as she could remember- had pleasured herself for the first time to the memory of him running those thick fingers through his hair, the way his plush lips moved when he delivered a passionate sermon, the light dusting of dark hair on the pale skin of his forearms when he rolled the stiff white fabric of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

Her fantasies had been intense, but nothing compared to the reality of him.

Just the thought of it had her squeezing her thighs together in anticipation as she stopped outside his office door. Her anticipation quickly turned to confusion when she knocked and he didn’t answer. She knew he was here, his car was parked in the otherwise empty parking lot, and she could feel his presence on the other side of the door.

There was a brief moment of panic, where fear crawled up from her stomach to lodge itself in her throat, closing off her breathing, as she contemplated that he might actually not want her, that he wouldn’t give in to this thing that was between them. She would be adrift, alone again with people that saw, and wanted to see, no deeper than the surface of her. Then her hand turned the knob, and the door opened with a soft click.

He hadn’t invited her in, but he hadn’t locked her out.

It would have been so, so easy for him to do so. He had to have known that she could show up today. Both other times she had come had been Wednesday evenings, when she knew he would be at the church later than anyone else, in his office alone.

He could have locked the door, he could have left early, he could have asked someone else to stay- but he hadn’t done any of those things, and it made her bolder.

Ben was sitting at his desk, tidied again since the last time she had come, a snarl on his face and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. There was a flash of pure meanness in his eyes when he spotted her, and it sent a thrill of lust through her that made her body tremble. In this mood he wouldn’t be kind to her, but she didn’t necessarily need him to be. He had been cruel before and it hadn’t stopped her.

“Get out,” he growled, leaning forward, and pinning her against the door with his eyes. “I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t you?” she asked softly, biting her lip, and looking at him from under the soft flutter of her lashes. “You said that last time.”

“I mean it, Rey,” he said firmly. “I meant it last time and the time before. I don’t want _you_ and I don’t want _this_.”

She paused, pondering his words and the challenge in them. While she was absolutely certain that he did want her, she was also absolutely certain that he hated himself for it. That he hated her for making him face what he really was, for pulling that dark animal out of the cage he tried to lock it in.

She had pushed past his boundaries both times before, and it had worked, but if she pushed too hard… Perhaps it was time to make him face the truth of what he really wanted.

She screwed up her face, fresh fake tears leaking down her cheeks.

“Wha…Are you crying?” His mouth dropped open in surprise and she turned away from him, shoulders shaking as a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Stop crying,” he demanded, the edge back in his voice. “You knew this would happen.”

“I know you don’t want me,” she wailed piteously. “I just wanted you so much, I couldn’t help myself. I know what I did was wrong, and I know you’re angry. I’m sorry, Ben.”

She made a show of peaking at him over her shoulder, widening her eyes to let the tears fall fat and noticeable down her face.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, but she noticed the quick glance that shot at her hand when she brought it up to rest on the doorknob. This clearly wasn’t going the way he thought it would, and his mind was racing to figure out what he should do.

“I’ll just…I’ll just go,” she said, turning the knob and giving the door a little pull. His voice stopped her before she could take the first step through and back into the hallway.

“You’re just going to leave? Just like that?”

Victory coursed through her, but she kept her expression sad when she turned back to him. “You just said…” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

“I said exactly what I said before, and you didn’t listen to me then.”

“No but… you just keep saying it. You don’t want me. It’s ok, I understand.”

He groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair and taking another deep drink from the bottle. The will to fight drained out of him visibly, leaving him slumped dejectedly in his chair. “I don’t…”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know,” he bit out. “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay.”

She turned back to face him and the meanness in his eyes was gone. She knew she could have no mercy now, she had to push while she had the advantage or she might never get another chance to pull the confession from him. “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” she said again, wiping the tears on her face. “I think I should go.”

“Please,” his voice was soft, but enough to stop her before she could turn again to leave. She pressed a hand to her mouth as though stifling a sob, her fist covering the smile that curved her mouth. He wouldn’t let her leave now, would never again be able to pretend he wasn’t interested in her.

“I can’t stay unless I know you want me.”

He stayed for a moment, weighing her words in the silence that stretched between them, before sliding out of his seat. His knees hit the carpeted floor with a thump and he crawled to her, his face a naked plea for welcome, until he knelt at her feet. She didn’t step away, letting him bury his face in her stomach, wrap his hands around her thighs, so large they covered her nearly from knee to the rounded curve at the bottoms of her ass.

“Please, don’t go.”

“Why? Tell me what you want from me.”

He looked at up her, eyes misty and conflicted and his lip trembled. “I want you, all of you.”

“Be specific,” she said and ran a hand through his hair, burying her fingers in the soft waves and giving it an encouraging tug. “I want to hear it.”

He swallowed hard and ran his tongue over his lips, wetting them with a flash of hesitant pink. He couldn’t pretend this time that he spoke in anger, that he was trying to frighten her away. If he gave into her this time, the pretense that it was all her fault would be over, even in his own mind.

“I want…to touch you,” he began sliding his fingertips over her thighs, soft gentle brushes like the whisper of butterfly wings. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

“I want you to touch me, Ben. I love to feel your hands on me.”

“And I want to see you everywhere this time,” he continued, pushing up her skirt to reveal the white cotton that shielded her from his gaze. “Take these off,” he said gruffly, hooking his thumbs into the tops of her underwear and tugging them down her legs until they pooled at her feet. “Step out.”

She obeyed him, leaning on his shoulders for balance as lust and wetness settled at the apex of her thighs. His face was close to her cunt, she was sure he could feel the heat.

He glanced up at her, watching her closely as he pressed her back against the door and lifted one leg to hook it over his shoulder. “So pretty and pink,” he said, and she jumped a little, arching against him when he trailed his fingers up the inner line of her thigh and into her folds. “And wet,” he observed, pulling them back out again to show her the way his hand glistened in the light of the overhead fluorescents. “Open your mouth.”

She lifted a brow at the command, but parted her lips obediently, unable to deny him anything, and he pushed his fingers inside, coating her tongue with the taste of her own arousal. She sucked the flavor his fingers, staring into his eyes without shame as he murmured his approval.

“I want to taste you,” he told her, nuzzling her with his nose and then licking a hot stripe up the center of her. She writhed against the door, shifting to get closer with a whimper. “I want more of that. I want to hear you, every little gasp and moan, and when you come for me, I want to hear you scream.”

“Someone might hear me,” she told him, hissing in a surprised breath as he buried two fingers deep into her, the wetness she couldn’t control easing his entry so he was buried to the knuckle in one smooth motion.

“We’re the only ones here,” he said, nipping at her hips as his fingers pumped into her roughly. She was going to be sore again, her body aching with the memory of this for days to come. “Besides, I thought you wanted to get caught. Isn’t that what you said? Or were you just trying to get me angry last time? Conniving little slut.”

Her eyes popped open in surprise, but there was no heat in his words, no recrimination, and she settled back against the door with a sigh.

He pushed her over the edge with his fingers and his tongue, and she screamed for him just like he wanted, calling out for him and for God as waves of pleasure rolled through her.

He let her leg drop and she sagged weakly against the door as he stood up to pin her arms above her head. He leaned down now to kiss her, plundering her mouth savagely and biting down on her lip hard enough that she tasted blood. She knew he wasn’t done with her yet, the front of his slacks tented with the hard length of him as it strained for release, but his words still worried at the back of her mind.

“Is that what you think I am? A slut?”

He didn’t answer her, his only response a twitch of his lips as he swept her up into his arms and walked her to his office chair. He sat down, depositing her on his lap. and she watched him closely as she helped him with his belt and the button on his slacks. She settled over him eagerly, shuddering as he pushed up into her but unwilling to let the issue drop.

“Maybe I should be,” she challenged, smirking at him as she circled her hips against him. “I’m sure I could find a few more men that wouldn’t mind having a taste of what I’ve been giving you.”

He chuckled, but it wasn’t a friendly sound and it made the hair on her nape stand up, even as her pussy clenched around him in response. He smacked her hard across the ass and she yelped in surprise. “If you try it, I’ll beat your ass till you can’t sit down for a month.”

She rolled a shoulder dismissively, and his fingers tightened bruising as they dug into her thighs. “I might like it, and besides, you’ve got Bazine.”

He grasped her chin firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze as he fucked up into her with a punishingly hard thrust. “I don’t fuck Bazine.”

“But you will,” she reminded him, and she hated herself for the petulant whine in her voice.

“Sometimes. Bazine’s a good woman, soft and kind and everything you’re _not_ ”, he said, ignoring her muffled “ _Thank God for that_ ” in response. “But she isn’t interested in me for sex. She wants the job od being a pastor’s wife, but she isn’t a passionate woman. I’ll fuck you as much as you’ll let me, as often as we can, and on the rare occasions that I have to fuck her, you’ll lick her juices off my cock just like you promised. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I want you,” she told him. “Any way I can get you.” He grunted in agreement and didn’t object when she put her mouth just below the fabric of his collar and sucked a bruise onto his skin. She wanted to mark him now, before another woman would be watching him, before Bazine had access to the places that Rey never wanted anyone else to see.

He surprised her again, giving the front of her dress a violent tug that tore fabric and sent buttons skittering across the floor. “Ben?”

But he only smiled at her, sucking matching marks on the top of each curve of her breast. “Mine,” he said, and she hummed her delight, the word shooting sparks straight through her.

“You’re so wet, so fucking wet and so pretty.” He looked mesmerized as he watched her rising and falling above him. “Look at those perfect fucking tits, marked and mine and bouncing so perfectly while you ride my cock. I don’t even care that I’m going to hell for this.”

“We’ll go together,” she promised, and she let her hand rest on his chest, enjoying the connection she felt at the thudding beat of his heart under her palm.

“Yeah?” he asked, panting the question at her before kissing her deeply. “You’d go to hell for me, sweetheart?”

She thought about his wedding to Bazine, about resigning herself to a life of quick and dirty fucks in darkened rooms. “I’d do anything for you,” she told him, and she meant it. They shared the same pieces of some indefinable darkness- there was no place else in the world for her to be but with him, no one else who would understand her the way that he could.

The sincerity in her voice seemed to surprise him, but he didn’t voice it, deciding instead to kiss her again, and they both fell silent as she set a faster, more urgent pace that pushed them both closer to the edge with each brutal thrust of their hips.

He came first, burying his face in her neck and clutching her to him as he pressed deep and emptied himself into her in waves of warmth that pulled a second orgasm out of her.

She collapsed exhausted into his chest, breath heaving and muscles trembling. He held her this time, hands settled on her hips as his thumbs traced gentle circles on her skin.

It was as much as he could offer her, given their circumstances, and she should have been content with it, but she wanted more. She wanted all of him.

“Do you love her?”

“Bazine?”

“Obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes petulantly.

“I thought so, but how could I? Not when I’m…well, I'm doing _this_. With you. I’m planning to break vows I haven’t even made yet.”

It wasn’t enough, but it would do for now.


	3. All or Nothing

Ben smiled politely at the white-haired old woman that tugged pointedly on his sleeve to get his attention.

Maz was lonely and she liked to talk whenever the church had a social event and while he’d managed to avoid her for the better part of the afternoon, with the spring social in full swing and Bazine taking a shift in the nursery helping with the babies and toddlers, there had eventually been no place left for him hide.

He’d been nodding along without really listening for the better part of twenty minutes, his eyes searching the crowd for the only person he really cared about seeing today. He’d gotten a glimpse of her here and there, but nothing consistent until he’d spotted her just before Maz pulled on his sleeve. In the spilt second his attention had been diverted; Rey had disappeared again.

Disappointment settled in his stomach, but he tried to let it go and focus on what Maz was saying to him.

She’d now stopped in the middle of reciting her list of recent medical complaints and was squinting up at him through her the thick lenses of her glasses. “You’ve been distracted today, Pastor Solo. Is everything alright?”

“Perfectly alright. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” He smiled again and patted her hand- his demeanor easy and charming, the product of long practice at putting away the raging temper and impulsiveness of his youth. He’d learned and grown since those turbulent years, overcome the darkness that had clawed so mercilessly at his insides.

Or so he’d thought, until Rey had walked into his office with her tight little body and saucy little mouth and pulled up urges he’d believed to be long buried.

He spotted her again, smiling placidly at one of the impudent little teenage fucks that was always hovering at her elbow. Ben couldn’t recall his name, but this one was about her age, maybe a year or two older and overly confident. He wouldn’t be able to handle her, wouldn’t get any closer to her than one of his impotent wet dreams.

Not that he’d ever know how far out of his league she was or how well she twisted his interest to suit her own purposes, and that intentional on Rey’s part.

It had to be intentional, the way she was always wearing white. She looked soft, delicate, virginal- a perfect little sweetheart without a stain to be seen on that spotless reputation.

Her father adored her, the congregation doted over her, the boys closer to her own age tripped over themselves to fetch her a drink or hand her a napkin. All she had to do was bow silently to their every expectation and never set a toe out of line.

He would never be sure if he had really noticed it before- how she never raised her voice, never let her smile falter or her words become confrontational. She wasn’t a person in front of them, she was just an illusion, a carefully constructed monument to what they wanted her to be. They didn’t know her, and they didn’t care to try. If they had, they’d have seen the amusement in her eyes, her delight as she had them dancing to do her favors even as she loathed them.

It was clever, taking what might have been a gilded cage and making it into her own personal playground.

They didn’t see her sins, but she certainly saw theirs- their weaknesses and their pride. She knew they weren’t as pious as they pretended to be and he’d have bet what little remained of his soul that she didn’t lose any sleep over what she’d become or the way she’d turned their burdensome pressures back around on them.

Is that what she had done to him? Maybe that was why she had turned those liquid hazel eyes on him. She was punishing him for daring to expect her to rise above her sinful urges when he had given into so many of his own during his youth.

Or had she seen the way he’d wanted her, even though he’d tried so hard not to?

Maybe she’d seen into him and felt the same jolt of recognition that he saw when he really looked at her. The wicked gleam in her eyes, the hunger, the insatiable beast that yearned to break free of its chains.

Either way, she had him now, and he’d had enough time to think it over to know how expertly she’d pulled that confession from him the last time they’d been alone. That had been another pretty trick, a well-acted ploy.

He couldn’t take it back, probably didn’t want to since he could stop pretending he didn’t want to fuck her until she squealed every chance he could get, but she deserved to be punished for deceiving him, for playing on his sympathies.

If they were going to do this, one thing had to be clear- she wouldn’t use her little tricks on him. He’d have her honest- all the meanness and cruelty and unbridled wants laid bare for him to feast on- or not at all.

She looked up and found him watching her and laid her hand on the arm of the boy talking to her. Jealousy and anger at her blatant attempt at manipulation bloomed in Ben’s mind and with it a plan to teach her a well-deserved lesson.

He extricated himself from Maz’s clutches and jerked his chin toward the church building before he turned and walked inside. He didn’t have to look to see if Rey would follow him. He already knew she would.

***

He didn’t go to his office, like he knew she’d be expecting, choosing instead to slip quietly by the door of the nursery where Bazine watched over the little ones to the classroom next door.

He let himself in, the hinges swinging open with a blessedly silent glide, and waited- one minute…two…-for the telltale click of Rey’s low kitten heels on the linoleum outside.

He grabbed her wrist as she walked by, giving her a yank, and clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her surprised squeak. She collided hard with his chest and he hauled her into the room with one arm wrapped firmly around her tiny waist and her feet lifting clear off the floor.

The door shut soundlessly behind them, locking them in a dim cocoon of fragile privacy. The shades on the windows were tilted to let little seams of sunlight in, barely illuminating the small tables and chairs, the child sized handprints and messily colored coloring pages on the walls.

If had to guess, he would have said Rey had probably spent several years doing Sunday school in this room, before getting old enough to attend the youth group meetings for teens that took place across the hall.

“What are you doing?” she hissed the moment he took his hand off her mouth, but he didn’t answer her, choosing instead to back her up against the nearest wall until she was pinned helplessly between the unyielding surface and the immovable plane of his chest.

She looked up at him defiantly, but the edges of doubt were already creeping in.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he whispered, moving swiftly to grasp her wrist and drag them above her head, holding her there with one massive hand as she glared at him. “You were using that little snot nosed brat to make me jealous, weren’t you?”

“Are you jealous?” she sneered, kicking out him with her left foot and then scowling when all she accomplished was making enough room between her legs for him to wedge his thigh between them.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I don’t want anyone else touching you. You like doing that- messing with my emotions, manipulating me. I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did,” he countered. “Those big fake tears look so pretty on you, but you already know that don’t you?” He nipped hard at her lip and she gasped pushing against him, but he ignored her.

“What are we doing in here, Ben?” she asked, wiggling on his thigh as he pressed hard against her and cupped her breast in his free hand.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

Her eyes went wide. “What, now?”

“Mmm hmm,” he mumbled, tugging her skirt up around her hips. “Right here, right now. You said you knew we were gonna get caught some day so let’s see how much you’re actually willing to risk your spotless reputation. Anyone could walk by that window and see us if they bothered to look. There’s at least two hundred people standing just outside.”

“Jesus, Ben, I didn’t think we’d actually get caught. Nobody comes around your office on Wednesdays,” she said, but she was already tugging at his belt working her hips against his thigh as she tried to free his cock.

He waited until she succeeded, until she had stroked over him roughly and then moaned into his hand as he stuffed himself inside, before he spoke again. When he did he leaned in close, his lips pressed intimately against her ear.

“Do you hear that, sweetheart?”

“Hear what?” she whispered back. “All I hear is the kids and the women working in the nursery on the other side of the wall.” She had her legs wrapped around his waist and she was straining against him, tugging on her arms still pinned above her head and her voice was rough with frustration that he wouldn’t move, wouldn’t let her do anything with the cock inside her until he’d made his point.

“Exactly,” he told her. “Bazine’s working the nursery shift right now. So you’re going to get fucked like a good little girl while you listen to the sound of my future’s wife’s voice.”

Her head jerked up, eyes hot with rage, as he gave her a little bounce, sliding her up on his dick and then back down again hard.

“And then,” he said, slamming her down again with each word to reinforce his meaning, “you…are…never…going…to…do…that…shit…again.”

She sank her teeth into his neck, and he grunted in surprise, barely resisting the urge to slam her back against the wall and make far too much noise. She smiled at him, all teeth, and he fucked up into her harder.

“I should start screaming your name,” she bit out angrily. “See how she likes finding you balls deep in someone else.”

“Do it,” he challenged. “Let them all see what you really are.”

“What _we_ really are,” she hissed. “You’re just like me.”

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet her eyes as they moved together in a frantic pace. She was right, and he knew it.

He reached between them, rubbing his thumb over the bud of her clit until she came apart around him, her hips jerking greedily and her cunt clenching. He swallowed her cries, kissing her desperately as he finally let go of her arms and let her tangle her fingers possessively in his hair.

“Tell me you love me, goddamn it,” he demanded. “And don’t ever fucking lie to me again.”

She tossed her head back, rebellion written on every line of her face. “Admit you’re just like me,” she countered. “That you’re just as fucked up and heartless as I am.”

He was fucking a teenager against the wall in his own church, his own fiancée in the room next door. There didn’t seem to be much point in denying it.

“I’m just like you,” he admitted, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her scent as he tried to keep his own climax at bay for another few precariously risky moments. He should have been hurrying to finish, but he didn’t want to let her go.

“And I love you,” she panted, tugging his hair until he was forced to look her in the eye. “I love you.”

His fragile grip on his control slipped, and he drove into her, burying himself inside her as deeply as he could as everything else temporarily ceased to exist and he poured into her in waves.

When his awareness returned, she was still wrapped around him, her body limp and her fingers tracing lazy circles over his back. The room around them smelled like sex and cheap art supplies and he could still hear the murmur of the crowd outside and the cry of a fussy baby in the room next door.

“I love you, too,” he said into the soft skin of her shoulder. “What the hell are we going to do now?”


	4. Truth and Consequence

She found him in the chapel, sitting in the front pew with his hands clasped and his head tipped back in silent supplication. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps, and she couldn’t tell if her arrival was the answer to his prayers, or the exact opposite. The look on his face- the anguish and the restless untamed need- was there for only a moment before he stood and swept her up in his arms.

She clung to him as he lifted her, opened herself to him as he gripped her waist and carried her the few fumbling steps to the dais. He laid her down, kneeling between her thighs as he plucked open the buttons that shielded her breasts from his view.

His hands on her skin were desperate, clinging and lingering over every curve and every exposed inch, as though he was reluctant to let go of any part of her to move on to the next. His breath was already harsh in her ear, ragged with need and unshed tears in equal measure as he nipped and kissed a path down from her jaw to her chest.

His wedding was in three days.

Rey had come to him as often she could since the picnic. She’d nearly run out of excuses to be at the church so often, but her father hadn’t asked too many questions or probed too deeply into how she was spending her time. He trusted her and believed the church was a safe place. If she was even more devoted to her prayers and the church’s good works then he was pleased with her choices.

His belief in the innocent façade she had crafted had given her the freedom she needed to see Ben several times a week and each time he was greedier and more desperate than the time before as his wedding edged ever closer.

She knew the time he was spending at the church instead of helping with the wedding preparations was causing him to fight with Bazine. He hadn’t told her directly, but he looked tired almost every day, his hair rumpled from running his fingers through it in frustration, and Bazine could hardly look at him these days without some kind of venom in her expression. Rey knew she could have put an end to it- all she had to do was stop coming and let him get back to his life- but she was selfish, and she wanted him even if it made his life difficult.

He pressed his face into her stomach, and as though he somehow knew what direction her thoughts had taken her, whispered brokenly, “I can’t do this. I can’t marry her.”

“You have to,” she said, her own voice raw with tears she refused to shed in front of him. “What are you going to say, Ben? That you’re breaking up with your fiancée because you’re fucking your mentor’s teenage daughter?”

There was no humor in his laughter. “God, can you imagine? It would be a fucking disaster. If it were just me, I wouldn’t hesitate, but there would be consequences for you, too.”

She smiled and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging his face upward until he was forced to look at her between the valley of her bare breasts. “I’m not afraid of the consequences of being with you, but I won’t let you ruin your life. Nothing is going to change between us. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shook his head, hand tightening painfully on her hips. “You will. You’re not going to waste your life waiting for stolen moments with a married man.”

“Not just a married man. A man that I love. You’re part of me, part of what I am.”

He moved swiftly to cover her, and she reached for him in welcome. This wasn’t their usual brutally passionate claiming- his raw emotion bled through into the way he held her, the way he looked at her. His expression was tender as he traced a thumb over her lip, and nearly fragile when he finally pushed inside her.

Rey turned her face away when she felt tears dampen her own cheeks. She needed to be strong for him now, especially since she had brought them here. It had been her own greed and demands that had started them on this path to self-destruction. Somehow, he had gotten inside her heart and made it his home and now she nearly regretted what she had done to them.

He hooked a finger under her chin and turned her back to face him. Concern drew his brows together. “Please don’t cry,” he begged.

She tightened her arms around him, her legs wrapping around his waist like a vice, and kissed him deeply. She poured everything she had into the kiss, all of her passion and her wants, and he relaxed above her, his worries fading as he began to work himself inside her again.

His relief was short lived.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to come with us. I know we have the rehearsal dinner scheduled but I wanted to go everything again beforehand with the wedding planner and my bridal party. Just anxious, you know? I’m sure Ben is, too, and that’s why he hasn’t been around as much. He’s used to being the officiant in these things, not the groom.”

“It’s no problem, Bazine. I haven’t done a wedding in a few years, but I think I can manage it for you and Ben.”

They both heard the voices at the same time, but they had been so wrapped up in each other that they registered the shattering of their fragile privacy too late. Ben sat up, pulling out of her as she scurried to push her dress back down over her thighs, just as her father and Bazine walked into the chapel, followed by several of Bazine’s family members and a tall, shocked looking woman that Rey didn’t recognize, who was presumably the wedding planner.

All of them drew to a sudden stop to stare at the scene before them with wide eyes.

“What the fuck?” Ben’s outburst, uttered in horrified surprise as he tried comically to straighten and rebutton his clothes without drawing attention to the fact that they were disheveled, hung in the air between them.

“Language,” Pastor Johnson admonished reflexively, his gaze traveling over Ben to Rey, still seated in the ground just behind him.

Rey was painfully aware that her quick action to settle her skirts in place had done nothing to disguise her bare breasts until it was far too late, and the chapel probably smelled distinctly of sex. Her mind whirled, flitting from one pointless excuse to the next as each failed to explain away the obvious truth of what had been happening between her and Ben.

“We were just going over the location and the wedding plans…” Bazine’s voice trailed away as she realized that she was the one explaining herself, as though her presence in the church with her family and her officiant three days before her wedding was somehow more unusual than what was unfolding before her. “Ben, what’s going on?”

Her eyes were bouncing between Rey’s open bodice, clutched in her white knuckled fingers, and Ben’s unbuttoned slacks, just visible beneath his untucked shirt tails. She was swallowing reflexively, repeatedly, a small whine starting in the back of her throat as she tried and failed to come up with a reasonable explanation.

Rey’s father was red in the face and growing redder, his complexion darkening dangerously as he stared at them. He took a step forward, his eyes locked on Ben, unable to look at the indignity that was his daughter.

They were caught, mostly undressed and in the act of fornication in the church chapel. There was, quite simply, no coming back from this for either of them. The consequences of their choices were now, quite literally, staring them in the face.

Rey began to laugh, a little tittering giggle at first, then a wild cackle as she bent double clutching her sides. Everyone else looked on in stunned horror as the weight of a lifetime of carrying everyone else’s expectations fell away. She looked at Ben helplessly, her shoulders shaking and tears of mirth streaming down her cheeks.

“I hardly think this is funny,” her father said harshly. “I demand an explanation for this, and it had better be a good one.”

“We were fucking,” Rey said glibly. “Obviously.”

“Rey,” Ben said, and his voice was pleading as he watched the horrible truth finally settle over his fiancée’s face. Bazine was shaking her head wildly, and all of her sisters and her mother were beginning to recover from their shock, all of them looking menacingly at Ben and crowding around Bazine to offer their support.

“You put your hands on my _daughter_?” Her father’s words made her turn, watching numbly as he shook with rage and unable to comprehend what kind of damnation would have them discovered by both of the people most likely to be hurt and angered by their affair.

“His _hands_?” Rey laughed again, her breathless giggles broken only when she looked up at Ben to mutter, “I don’t think it’s your hands they worried about.”

The whole thing was absurd, and it didn’t even seem real to her, as though she was looking at the sordid scene from underwater or from very far away. She couldn’t feel her toes and the rest of her body suddenly seemed to weigh at least twice as much as it should, leaving her sluggish and unable to comprehend what was happening.

Bazine’s sister grabbed her arm as she took a menacing step forward. “You’re disgusting,” she said, spitting the words at Rey before turning to look at Ben. “ _This_ is what you wanted? You missed the wedding planning today to be with _her_?”

“More than just today,” Rey said, leaning forward with her face turned up in a snarl. She’d almost felt sorry for the pain she’d caused, but she’d be damned if she was going take this kind of abuse from the woman that had been given everything Rey herself had wanted and knew she would never have. Bazine had been his partner, someone who was able to stand beside him in the light of day without shame. The darkness inside Rey wanted the other woman to know what it was to hurt as she had hurt all this time. “This had been going on for _months_.”

“You bitch,” Bazine said.

“She is seventeen,” Rey’s father said quickly, holding up a hand to silence Bazine’s altercation with Rey. “She’s hardly responsible for being taken advantage of by a grown man.” He glared at Ben, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I thought you’d changed. I _trusted_ you.”

Rey opened her mouth to dispute this, to take the blame for seducing him when this whole thing started, but Ben stepped in front of her, blocking her from view and taking the full brunt of their anger. “Then that was your mistake,” he began, but before he could finish the other women were screaming and her father had punched him in the mouth, knocking him back as he stumbled to catch his balance.

He could have tried to defend himself, he was larger and taller than Pastor Johnson by a significant amount, but he only held up his hands in a position of surrender as the older man hit him again, first in the jaw and then in the stomach.

“Stop it,” Rey screamed, lunging up and grabbing her father’s arm only to be knocked backward as he raised his hand for another punch.

Rage flashed in Ben’s eyes as she fell back, landing hard at Bazine’s feet. He stood up finally, grabbing her father by the shirt front and hauling the smaller man up onto his toes. “If you touch her again…”

“Ben, no!” Rey scrambled to her feet, placing a placating hand on his arm. “I’m alright,” she said softly, and she waited with her heart in her throat until Ben let go of the man in his grip and turned to face her. He didn’t touch her skin, but her twisted his fingers subtly in her skirt, anchoring himself to her.

“Nothing about this is ok,” her father said stiffly as he smoothed his rumpled shirt, ignoring the blood on Ben’s mouth and the bruises rapidly blooming on his jaw. “I’m going to call the police. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to her.”

Bazine’s quiet sniffles turned to loud sobs. She was slouched against her mother and sisters, and they all looked horrified at the thought of having to tell everyone they knew that the wedding had been cancelled because her groom had been arrested for sleeping with a minor.

“You can call,” Rey said, turning to face him with her hand still resting on Ben’s arm. The muscles beneath her palm where flexing restlessly. “But it won’t do you any good. I’m seventeen and that’s a year older than the age of consent.”

“You’re a child! You still live under my roof,” he screamed.

“And you can punish me,” she said evenly. “But there’s nothing they can do to Ben. He hasn’t broken any laws. I’m old enough to choose who I sleep with.”

He looked at her so coldly that she was briefly afraid that he might strike her, too. “It’s like I don’t even know you. I didn’t raise my daughter to be a whore.”

“You never knew me,” she agreed. “You only saw what you wanted me to be.”

He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from Ben as she twisted in vain to break free, before turning his wrath on Ben again. “You’re done here,” he said flatly. “You’ll have nothing by the time I’m finished with you. No job, no fiancée, nowhere to live. Nothing.” He glared at Rey, still struggling in his grip. “And _you_ are going home, where you will stay except for school and church services. You won’t go anywhere without supervision.”

He turned on his heel, pushing by the women still blocking the aisle and hauling Rey behind him as he left the building.

Rey looked over her shoulder just in time to see Bazine land a loud slap to Ben’s already bruised cheek, but he wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were fixed on Rey, watching her with a horrible mixture of shame and grief as his life fell apart around him.

She’d played a selfish game, and he’d lost.


	5. Temptingly Innocent

_The First Time_

Ben was restless.

He’d been trying to deny that inconvenient fact for a few years now, to ignore the way it scratched and clawed at the back of his mind when his thoughts drifted for a little too long.

If there was anyone who didn’t deserve that luxury, the absolute ingratitude of looking at what he had and wishing that it might have been something else, it was definitely him. He was lucky, blessed beyond measure, that he hadn’t thrown his life away on some youthful tantrum. He’d been tempted, certainly, had strayed off the path more than a few times, but he had righted himself in time.

He was a pastor now, a leader and a man of faith. He had a career and a well-respected fiancée that was sweet and pure and everything that he had been taught that he should want in a wife. Soon, he would be married and have the opportunity to start a family of his own.

It was all laid out before him in a shimmering line.

Perfect.

Unbreakable.

Inescapable.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing a rough hand over his face, and rolling his shoulders to alleviate some of the tension that coiled at the base of his neck. He should have gone home by now, instead of sitting here hunched over a sermon that he had known for hours was already finished, but he didn’t want to spend another night in his suffocating little house or listening to Bazine whine on about the difficulty of seating arrangements and dress appointments.

He knew he should care about those things, but he didn’t. He would have been content to skip it all and just have old man Johnson marry them in an empty chapel, but Bazine wouldn’t even contemplate less than a full out fancy affair.

She wanted a picture-perfect day, the fantasy that every girl dreamed of, and a fantasy life to follow it. Little house, white picket fence, kids, dogs- the full domestic experience. He was meant to fill the role of devoted husband.

He might even be able to pull that off.

He thought he loved her, or that he had when they first started seeing each other after Pastor Johnson had suggested she might be the right kind of woman for him. She was sweet and pure and everything he was supposed to want, and he was already bored and tired and frustrated with everything about her. It wasn’t fair to her, but it certainly wasn’t fair to him either. 

He said a quick prayer under his breath that God would find him a way to do what was right just as a soft knock came from his office door. He frowned- he wasn’t expecting anyone else to still be here this late- and called out for them to let themselves in.

He tipped his head in surprise when Rey Johnson opened the door. He assumed her father would be with her, and peered around her expectantly, but she closed the door behind her without letting anyone else in.

She didn’t speak, which he attributed to nerves, and he waved her forward, gesturing for her to take a seat. She was hesitant and stood at the door for a few moments nibbling on her bottom lip before straightening her spine and walking to sit in the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

Rey was a pretty girl- long brown hair that always fell down her back in neat, carefully created curls, wide hazel eyes, freckles dashed across high cheekbones and a slim nose. She was wearing a pink skirt and a white top that had a pattern of matching pink flowers.

She was exactly what anyone would expect a former pastor’s daughter to be. Fresh faced and innocent, modest, quiet, never demanding, or rude. Perfect like a glittering doll set a on a shelf. If he had some perverse instinct inside him that wondered what it would be like ruffle that image and see if what underneath was just as pure, well that was his own sick problem to deal with.

She was young- still in high school if his memory was correct- and had probably stayed around after the Wednesday youth group meeting had let out half an hour before. He assumed that she’d had some sort of argument with another teen and was seeking his intervention. The youth group leader was not often sympathetic to their small squabbles and she wouldn’t be the first one to have ended up in his office hoping for a more desirable outcome in some dispute.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked when she still didn’t speak.

“I…I need your help with something,” she said quietly. She was fidgety, tucking her feet under the chair and plucking at the fabric on her skirt. The motion caused it to ride up on her thigh, revealing an inch above her knee and he jerked his gaze away, flushing slightly as guilt and interest both sparked to life inside him.

It wasn’t the first time. There was something about her in the last few months, some tug in his gut that had him staring at her a bit too often when he knew he shouldn’t be. More than once she’d looked up and caught him staring, but she seemed to entirely too innocent to understand the implications and he was extremely grateful for her sheltered upbringing.

He cleared his throat quickly, pushing away the restless self-destructive thoughts and the shame that came with them. 

“Sure, I can certainly try. What’s the exact problem that you’re having?”

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, seeming to try and gather her courage. “I’ve been having thoughts…of an inappropriate nature.”

He frowned. This was not what he expected to hear. “Violent thoughts?” he asked. That didn’t seem to be at all compatible with what he knew of her, but perhaps that’s why she had come to him instead of seeking the counsel of her father.

She shook her head quickly. “No, not violent,” she said. “Just inappropriate.”

He opened his mouth to ask her to elaborate but noticed that her cheeks were stained an alarming shade of crimson.

Inappropriate.

Ah.

His eyes slid back down to the skin on her thigh.

“It’s normal,” he said slowly, “for you to experience temptation of the flesh. Perhaps you might try speaking to one of the women…”

“No,” she cut in, “I can’t do that. It has…it has to be you. You’re the only who can help me.” She was leaning forward, breasts pressing against the thin fabric of her shirt. He eyes focused on one small pink flower as he avoided meeting her eyes. He was sure now that she wasn’t the only one who was blushing.

“I don’t think I’m really the best source of advice in this particular area. A young girl needs someone who understands these things…”

“You understand them,” she insisted. “You’ve felt desire, haven’t you?”

Something in the back of his mind signaled an alarm, but he ignored it. She was certainly not in any position to be a danger to him. “I have,” he admitted. “I just thought you might be more comfortable discussing this with someone whose experiences might be a little closer to your own. And, to be honest, I’m not sure that your father would be comfortable with you discussing this with me.”

“He always told me I could come to you for anything,” she said stubbornly, and he saw for the first time a bit of defiance in her eyes.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you feel comfortable discussing it with me then I suppose it’s not a problem. What about these thoughts has you concerned?”

She smiled triumphantly for a moment and then settled back in her chair, her fingers twisted nervously in her lap and her skirt rode up another inch.

Ben swallowed, trying to force his mind not to notice.

“Well, they’re extremely detailed,” she said softly. “I can’t seem to keep my mind from lingering on fantasies of being touched and sometimes it’s so intense that it almost seems like I can feel hands on my skin.”

His fingers flexed on the arms of his chair and he huffed out a breath, unsure of how to proceed. “Ah, intense fantasies are normal in young people. Hormones and inexperience can give rise to vivid dreams and desires. I don’t think that’s anything to be terribly concerned about. Prayer can help you to handle those feelings.”

“Don’t you want to know where I imagine being touched?”

His eyes flew to her face and she wasn’t blushing now, she was staring at him with heat and longing.

“I don’t really think that’s necessary,” he stammered. Alarm bells were definitely sounding now, and he swallowed hard, trying to remain professional and not hurt her feelings unnecessarily. “As I said, prayer can be a great way to help you deal with these urges, since we are commanded to keep ourselves pure until marriage.”

She smiled at him again, a slow spread of her lips that drew is attention inevitably to how plump and pink they were. She was utterly unrepentant as she crossed her legs, drawing her skirt up until her entire thigh curved bare and tantalizing beneath his gaze. “Did you?” she asked boldly. “Wait until marriage, I mean?”

“That’s really not an appropriate topic of discussion,” he said desperately, trying to regain control of a situation that he didn’t fully understand. She was innocent, he must be misreading the signs that she was sending him, perverting them because of his own twisted desires.

“That’s a no, then,” she said with a laugh, and it was like none that he had ever heard from her before, not the restrained girlish giggle that she used in front of others, but a wild and wanton chuckle, lusty and unashamed. Heat raced down every nerve ending and he shifted uncomfortably as his body reacted, stiffening shamefully inside his slacks.

“No, I did not. A fact that I deeply regret,” he said firmly. “I should have waited. I gave away something that should have belonged to my future wife.” He breathed a little deeper, filling his mind with images of Bazine and her trusting face. It took the edge off of his own inappropriate thoughts.

“Your purity should have belonged to Bazine?” Her eyes were sparking with mischief. “How adorable. It is a pity, though.”

“A pity? How so?”

“Well, it’s just that the only man I want to touch me is already engaged to someone else.” She trailed a finger over her thigh, and he watched it creep up from her knee to the hem of her skirt. 

“Rey…” It came out deeper than he intended, a warning that should have sent her running from the office in fear, but she tipped her head and looked at him curiously, unaffected by the harshness of his tone.

“Ben…” she challenged, his first name rolling off her tongue seductively, carrying with it an unwarranted intimacy that caused the beast he had long since locked away to rumble violently in his chest.

She was schoolgirl with a crush, and she had no idea what she was playing with.

He stood up and her eyes widened in surprise. “I think it’s probably best if you discuss this with someone else. I seem to have given you the wrong idea about what’s happening here.”

He crossed the space between them, stepping around the desk to stand at her side, intending to escort her from the room for his own quickly fading sanity.

The pretty pink flowers in her blouse brushed against the stiff blue fabric of his button-down shirt as she stood to face him, leaning in too close until her chest was caressing his own and he could smell the sweet richness of her perfume. His breath hitched at the contact and he closed his eyes as he stepped back, making room for her to slip by him on the way out the door, but she didn’t move.

“Ben,” she said again, laying her hand over his pounding heartbeat and turning her body until she was pressed flush against the front of him. Her tone was pleading, nakedly unashamed and heavy with lust.

“We can’t do this,” he told her, reaching up to cup her elbows, tugging slightly to pull her away from him.

“Can’t?” she breathed. “That doesn’t mean you don’t want to, though.”

He cursed silently under his breath, wishing he had been more careful with his words, as her fingers latched boldly onto his hips.

“I don’t,” he lied, but his body betrayed him, his erection hard and aching against her stomach.

“Mmm,” she hummed, pressing up onto her tiptoes so she could slide sensually against him. He bumped his hips, pressing into her uncontrollably. She was looking up at him, hazel eyes dark and needy.

He didn’t know how it happened, how his teeth found her lip and his hands tugged her up until he could shove his hands under her pretty skirt to cup around her ass, but she moaned and lifted herself up, offering her body to him as a willing sacrifice.

She was sweet on his tongue when she opened her mouth for him, fumbling and inexperienced but eager and quick to learn. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as he gripped her tighter and plundered the dark recesses of mouth.

She arched her back, rubbing her breasts against his chest and he palmed one with his hand, squeezing the perfect handful until she squirmed desperately against him. He tugged on the bottom of her shirt, skimming it up her stomach until he revealed a plain white bra that he shoved roughly out of the way until he could take her nipple in his fingers, rubbing it until it hardened and then sucking it roughly between his teeth.

She squealed and he remembered abruptly that she was probably unfamiliar with the sensation, out of her depth entirely.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked gruffly, hanging on tightly to control. “I can’t promise to be nice to you if you stay, if you want to go then you need to go now.”

She met his eyes, her breath coming in short pants and her nipple glistening with the wetness from his mouth. “No, I don’t want you to stop.”

The chain slipped on the beast inside him and he turned, lifting her with him until he had her sprawled across the top of his desk. She didn’t look frightened by his rough handling and he shook his head at her.

“Is this what you want?” he growled, shoving her skirt up and her underwear aside so he could push his fingers into her. She clenched around him, wiggling her hips against the strong of the stretch, but she didn’t protest.

“Yes,” she hissed, her breath coming between fast and shallow as he stroked her, reaching his fingers in deep before hooking them against the front wall of her cunt. Her wetness was soaking his hand and she arched her hips on a keening whine of pleasure.

He pushed her hips down, holding her in place with a forearm as he locked his mouth onto her, his tongue licking a broad stripe into her folds that made her press up futilely against his hold. She whimpered when he licked into her and shouted in surprise when he found the tight bud of her clit and began to circle it with his tongue.

Every breath was a sob of need by the time he pulled her clit into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that tipped her over the edge and made her squeeze rhythmically around the fingers he had buried in her to the knuckle.

He pulled away from her, his own want raging against the common sense that told him he had already gone much too far and could not possibly damage her more than he already had. He scrambled back, intent on apologizing and begging her for her forgiveness.

She leaned up onto her elbows, face flushed with her orgasm and her swollen lips parted in surprise. “Ben?” Her voice trembled, and he knew she must be able to see the conflict on his face. “Please,” she begged. “I want you, please don’t go.”

It was the slight quiver in her lip, the vulnerability that was so at odds with the gleam of clever intention in her eyes, that pulled him back in. He knew she was weaponizing her innocence against him but the beast inside him raged, desperate and hungry to take what she was offering him.

“Damn it,” he snarled, leaning over her as they fumbled together to loosen his belt and open the button of his slacks. She pulled the zipper down herself and then her fingers were sliding past the waistband of his underwear to wrap around his throbbing cock and pull it free.

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him searchingly. “Is that…” she trailed off, licking her lips before trying again. “Is that all supposed to fit inside me? I think it’s too big.”

His ego flared at her uncertainty and he smiled down at her. “We’re gonna make it fit,” he promised. “You’re going to take all of it, right?”

She nodded, but her eyes were still locked on him doubtfully as be bumped the thick head against her opening.

His brow furrowed. “I don’t have…”

“I’m on birth control,” she said quickly.

He looked her in surprise. “You dad put you on…”

“No. I did it myself,” she said defiantly. “There’s a clinic, you know.”

He ignored the whisper in his mind that told him she had planned this, too overpowered with the need to push himself into her, the tight wet heat welcoming as he forced her to open and take him in.

Her fingers clamped onto his arms and she tipped her head back, a moan that was part pleasure and part pain escaping her lips as he thrust into her. Her chest was heaving, her legs squeezing his hips as she tried reflexively to close them against his intrusion. “I can’t,” she whined, and her arms were shaking with the effort of holding herself still.

“Yes, you can,” he said tensely, pulling out some and then forcefully rocking back inside, each movement pressing him in just a bit farther until he was completely sheathed inside her. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she relaxed against the desk, working her muscles around him experimentally. “There, I knew you could do it.”

She nodded, her lips turning up slightly at his praise.

He knew he would be damned for this tomorrow, the guilt a living breathing thing that would destroy him from the inside out, but right now all he wanted was to move, to fuck into her until he forget that the world outside this room even existed.

She shuddered when he shifted his hips, giving her a gentle thrust that bounced her breasts. She lifted her leg, wrapping it around his hip to open herself more and give him better access, and he thrust again, sinking even deeper as she writhed beneath him.

He put a hand on her stomach, holding her down as he began to move more greedily, pulling out further and sliding back in harder with each bounce until she was crying out softly with each impact of his hips against her thighs. The sound of flesh slapping ruthlessly against flesh mingled with their harsh breathing and he knew that he was probably hurting her but she clung to him tightly, her little cries urging him on until he spilled into her in a rush, his body twitching as he coated her insides with wave after wave of his cum.

He felt empty and hollow as he softened inside her, the peak of the most intense climax he had ever experienced receding and leaving him with regret and a mind-numbing sense of self-loathing.

That feeling increased a hundred-fold when he slipped out of her and found traces of blood on her thighs and his own skin. She had been a virgin, too tight and to inexperienced to be fucked so roughly. He’d hurt her and he felt sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, reaching for the box of tissues on his desk and gently wiping away the evidence of his brutality. She frowned at the blood on the tissues as the tossed them into the little garbage can beside his desk, but she didn’t launch any accusations at him as he’d feared.

He straightened her skirt and her blouse and helped her sit up before he tucked his own shirt in and fixed his slacks and his belt.

So quickly and everything was back as it should be, at least on the surface.

She sat primly on the edge of his desk for several long moments as he sat down hard on the chair she’d been sitting in and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t hold back the tears that spilled down his own cheeks, the consequences to this decision were going to be devastating if anyone ever found out.

She tugged at his hands, pulling them away from his face and crawling into his lap to soothe him. “It’s alright,” she crooned, hugging his head to her breast, and rubbing his arm. “I want this. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he said, shaking his head against her chest. “I hurt you, and we should never have done this. I fucking know better.”

She pulled back with a frown, her eyes narrowing. “I could have said no if I didn’t like it.”

“But you didn’t,” he reminded her. “And now look what I’ve done. This was a mistake, Rey.”

She jumped off his lap, face set in mutinous lines. “This was _not_ a mistake. I saw the way you looked at me, the way you wanted me. You’re _just like me_ , Ben. You’re as dark and fucked up on the inside as I am and you’re playing the same little game at pretending to be innocent and good, but I know better.”

He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “You’re too young to even know what you’re talking about.”

She stamped her foot at him, her rage pouring out of her to surprise him again with how little any of them actually knew her. “I am _not_. I’m not too young to have thoughts and feelings, or to know that no one gives a shit about me as a person, they just want me to behave like a perfect little doll.”

Her words hit too close to his own thoughts from when she’d first arrived, and he winced.

“Well, I am not a doll and you’re not as perfect as they want you to be either. So, you just think about that, and whether you really want that life that everyone has all planned out for you.”


	6. Epilogue

_Six months later_

The city was loud after the years he had spent in that tiny, middle of nowhere town. The constant rush of traffic and the honking of horns had made it hard for him to sleep for the first few weeks after he got here.

Now it wasn’t the noise that kept him awake, it was the memories.

Rey’s face as her father had dragged her from the chapel was burned so deeply into his consciousness that he knew nothing else could ever scrub it clean.

Bazine and her family had screamed at him for so long he had lost track, just as he hadn’t bothered to count the number of times that her hand had landed across the side of his face as she raged at his betrayal. He’d hurt her, so he didn’t blame her for her anger, but he also didn’t really care about her one way or the other.

He’d gone home, packed up what he cared about most into his car and left before the church could have the pleasure of officially firing him and kicking him out of the house that was provided to him as part of his salary.

There had been no doubt that her father would make sure he’d never be able to see Rey again, and the thought of staying there even one more minute was fucking impossible to bear. He had known when they started that affair that it would destroy him, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt so damn much.

The loss of the job and the house and the life that he had planned didn’t bother him- he had a shitty apartment and a boring new job and all the freedom to make his own choices now- but it was empty and meaningless without her.

He picked up the bottle of whiskey off the coffee table, taking another swig from the bottle and letting the heat burn away his bitterness. Sometimes he could still smell the scent of her perfume, and her touch haunted his dreams.

The knock on his door made him scowl. He wasn’t expecting any company and his rent on this hellhole had already been paid for this month.

He wrenched the door open, ready to heap abuse on the person who had disturbed his drunken musings and froze.

Her hair was shorter, chopped off at the shoulder and riotously layered. There were so sweet curls to frame her face, but there was black eyeliner to rim her hazel eyes and a deep red lipstick over her wicked smile. She was wearing jeans and a black shirt that clung tightly to her chest. A silver stud winked in her nose, glimmering in the flickering light of the hallway.

The baby-faced sweetheart that she had so carefully projected was gone.

“Rey? How the hell…”

“Oh, please, it’s not hard to find people these days. Even the ones that don’t want to be found,” she said pointedly, nudging him out of the way with her hip and dropping a packed bag at his feet.

“Your father,” he began, but she shook her head.

“I’m eighteen and I graduated already. There’s nothing keeping me in that shitty little town.”

He sat down on the couch and took another drink, unable to tear his eyes off her as she poked around his apartment. “So, you just turned eighteen and skipped town?”

“Hopped a bus,” she said cheerfully, coming back from the kitchen munching on dry cereal, the box still in her hand.

He blinked at her, his brain still foggy and slow to catch up. “You came here,” he said.

“I came to you,” she corrected, before frowning down at him suspiciously. “You don’t have someone else living here, do you?”

“No,” he assured her quickly. “Are you? Uh, going to be living here?”

She looked pointedly at the bag she’d left by the door. “That was the plan.”

“Oh, well I guess I just have one question then,” he told her, standing up to pull her into his arms. “What the hell took you so long?”


End file.
